


The lengths we go.

by Yaldabaoth



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Cruelty, Death, Gen, Lots of other shit, Substance Abuse, Triggers, We'll see as we go along.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaldabaoth/pseuds/Yaldabaoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever done something wrong for the right reasons? Have you ever felt the sting of guilt that evolves into a poison that kills you from the inside? Vriska Serket has.<br/>Have you ever lied and blackmailed under the guise of law? Have you ever turned away from your motives and struggle to look at yourself in the mirror? Terezi Pyrope has.<br/>Have you ever cried out in the name of God for death? Have you ever felt so helpless and futile that even the mention of your own name makes you break down? Feferi Peixes has.</p>
<p>This is their intertwined tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The lengths we go.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feferi Peixes never met Vriska Serket up until 5 years ago. She really wishes she didn't.

_“PRMMPH! HMPFH MRRMMPH!”_  
 _“Y’know, as much as I truly hate to be the bringer of bad news, I’m gonna have to be the one who tells you that no one can hear you.”_

Honestly, why was Feferi even bothering? She was in the back seat of a car on the highway with duct tape on her mouth and thick rope around her wrists and ankles. Her determination was admirable at best, but it had now grown to be quite annoying: after all, it was drowning out the radio. Vriska couldn’t help but smirk as she took a drag of the cigarette between her lips as her other hand lazily turned the steering wheel to the left, speeding off the nearest exit as the street lights on either side of her became amber blurs that splashed on her chiselled cheeks and dying cobalt eyes. Smoke puffed out from the girl’s nostrils, caressing her flat lips before being sucked out through rolled down window followed by the stubby cigarette itself which had lost its soothing taste. Vriska let her mind race around, smugly remember the last 3 hours and how perfectly she had executed her flawless plan: how no one had even caught glimpse of her, how she had transported the unlucky girl to her car and how swiftly she had departed from the scene of her crime. God, why she didn’t do this for a living was beyond her own comprehension: the money was probably enough to sustain a third world country and the thought of her name sending cold shivers down the spines of people all across the globe was a very appealing one to the unhinged Serket. After throwing various fantasies of owning large homes in the various continents of the world, Vriska found herself speeding closer and closer to her modest detached bungalow, skidding into the driveway and shutting off the engine. As silent as a spider in the snow, Vriska heaved Feferi’s chubby form out from the back of her car and roughly moved into the Serket’s abode, albeit with some effort (after all, no one has ever taken to being kidnapped lightly) and relocated into the grimy, dark basement that reeked of shattered dreams and dying hope. Futility coated the thick chains that Vriska clasped to Feferi’s ankles, wrists and neck, leaving her on her knees like a heretic pleading forgiveness as she ripped off the duct tape with painful vigour.

“I-I’m sorry f-for what-whatever I di-did to you...” Feferi sobbed heavily after a yelp, her tears streaming down her cheeks and splashing insignificantly off of the cold, concrete floor. “Why-why are you d-doing this t-t-to me...?” Feferi croaked weakly once her tears had lessened, her shimmering wet eyes staring up to Vriska’s colder ones.

“You just happened to be in the right place at the right time. And some of us need to make a living unlike yourself, you spoonfed slut.” Vriska spat back viciously, grabbing the plump girl’s chin and forcing her head up, making it impossible to avoid the Serket’s glare. “And be thankful that I’m not selling you off. I’m sure there’s lots of takers for a rich, fat bimbo such as yourself.” Vriska added, letting the girl’s head drop as she began to cry some more. Vriska ascended the stairs of the basement with a crushing sensation of guilt in her heart and mind: no one deserved this, especially not this girl in particular, but it was either this or let herself be killed by the hands of Doc Scratch’s merciless goons for a few unpaid debts. Feferi was the last person in the world who deserved this: she gave to charity, helped schools and hospitals and participated in fundraising events all around the city. Vriska simply had to crush and compact the stinging sensation and toss it into the bottom of her stomach, as she had done with the many mistakes in her life. After all, she thought as she walked down the dark, seemingly endless hallway and sauntering into her bedroom, the guilt can only last so long until it just became a numb throbbing, right? That’s what always happened so why would it change? This wasn’t any different: just a dumb mistake that she had to make.

Vriska often reflected back to that day almost 5 years from then, wondering if the kidnapping of a modern day saint was worth not dying for, if taking away the life of an entire society for her own needs was justifiable. Hell, she doubted anyone would give a shit about her story if she came out with it, or about her motives: to this day, there were still large handfuls of people who were praying for the kidnapper’s blood. Seeing so many people wanting her dead had a largely numbing effect on the Serket, making the thought of suicide a very tempting one. But if she died, Feferi would have to go as well, something that Vriska couldn’t bring herself to do. She had tried: she pressed razors to the malnourished girls’ throat, guns to her weakened forehead and syringes to her thinning veins, but could never deal the killing blow, pull the trigger or give the dose. Vriska yearned for nothing more than Feferi’s release: she wanted this girl to get the fuck out of her basement and have her life return to what normality it could muster, but the Serket knew how impossible this was which crushed her more than anything else about the whole situation. In a weak attempt to stop her mind from tipping entirely off of the edge of borrowed sanity, Vriska brought up her phone and opened up the one contact she had and began tapping up a message.

“Hey, Pyrope! It’s been for fucking EVER since we’ve ever hung out. How about we change that? You, me, some drinks and a good deal of catching up: how does that sound for a plan, huh? ::::D” was the obnoxiously cheerful message Vriska sent to her estranged friend before finishing her 5th cigarette, looking helplessly into the glowing embers before stubbing and tossing the intoxicating little stick into an ashtray. She promptly rose from her comfortable chair and was soon descending down the stairs to the basement with a bowl of assorted foodstuffs for the imprisoned girl below the floorboards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might not be the best start, but I want to get some critique in before I make a start on the next chapter. So please, leave comments and share this around! It'll really help me out. Thank you.


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